Diver:  Joey from Velorution Cycles
Interesting facts: Long-haired cats start shedding when it’s 50 degrees outside, even in January.  Either that, or my cat is going bald.

Dear Diver,
Over the past few years, I’ve noticed an increase in the saying “Happy Snowdown.” As in, “Have a Happy Snowdown!” Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t this overkill? I don’t even really like Snowdown, so what am I supposed to say to these people? When did Snowdown become an official holiday around here?
– Durango Anarchist

Dear Killjoy,
If there’s one thing Durango likes better than dogs, bicycles and giant diesel trucks for guys with size issues, it’s drinking beer. That, and costuming up like third-graders getting ready for their first school play. And if Durangoans can do things like jump in a pool full of beer while wearing said costumes, they are going to be more excited than Tom Chapman or Red McCombs finding a new mining claim for sale in a wilderness area. This means if you dislike Snowdown, you’re the odd one out. Don’t worry, I’m right there with you. I don’t get Snowdown either – but that’s because I’m a stick in the mud who can only handle a beer at a time and whose only costume idea would involve donning a ski mask and a tutu. What’s your excuse? You need one, so that when someone says “Happy Snowdown!” you can explain why you’re a raging bore. If that sounds like too much, just frown and stalk away. That’s what I do, and it works every time.
– They’ll get the idea, the Diver

 

Dear Diver,
Sometimes, when my dog poops in rich peoples’ yards, I don’t pick  it up. I see it as a way of sticking it to the man, telling him that despite his big fancy house, his shit stinks too.  (At the very least, they’ll walk in it and ruin a pricey pair of shoes.) Is this the wrong way to get back at the 1 percenters?
– Robin Hood

Dear Robbin’ the ‘hood of clean walking space,
If you really want to stick it to the man, you’re going to have to work a little harder than that.  Follow the below 5-step program to make your point. 1: Every time your dog takes a pee, collect it. 2: Once you’ve got a good 55-gallon drum’s worth, drive on over to Wall Street – yes, that Wall Street. 3: This is the tricky part – rig the drum of golden goodness over the door to the New York Stock Exchange. Dont get caught! 4: When the first rush of one-percenters hits the door in the morning, all in a hurry to make zillions of dollars, your cleverly rigged drum will give them a literal interpretation of what “trickle-down” economics feels like. What a delightfully ironic (and salty) way of turning the tables! 5: Make no mention of me when you’re rotting in prison. This is important.
– For the 99%, the Diver

 

 

Dear Sudsy-wudsy,
Life is full of contradictions. For example, every morning I awake to find myself covered in approximately one long-haired-cat’s worth of fur. But when I look at the cat, he’s still smugly furry.  I ask myself, are the gods crazy? Or get this: All those conservative commenters on every Herald article, bloviating about hard work and values – how come they are always lounging in front of their computers, hanging on every word? I ask myself, are the gods crazy? Or texting and driving: How the hell do people imagine they can both drive safely (which does, believe me, entail looking at the road) and type out messages (“Hey BFF!  Be thr soon!  Drvng ovr rite -” CRASH!... “OMG, just ran ovr a cyclist! LOL!”) on teensy little buttons with both hands? Yet again, I ask myself, are the gods crazy? I then realize, nope – people are. Cats, too.
– Look out for crazies of all species,
the Diver



 

In a sticky situation?